


Vulnerable

by kiyala



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6228088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tieria and Lockon work in a flower shop together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt _things you said with no space between us_.

It's quiet in the shop as Tieria sets up, and this is one of his favourite things about the mornings. He likes the peace that it brings with it, the way that he's left alone with his work and with his thoughts. He's pleased with today's selection from the flower market and it's relaxing work to put the displays together, pausing in between to make sure that all the colours work together. 

As absorbed as he is in his work, he doesn't miss the quiet scratch of a key being fitted into the lock on the door. He feels the back of his neck prickle, suddenly all too aware of the creak of the door as it opens, the footsteps on the floor, the breath of someone else in the small shop. 

"I brought you flowers," Lockon says, and Tieria can hear his smile in the words themselves without having to look. "Tulips so red that they match your eyes." 

"Stop wasting time," Tieria mutters, throwing a glance over his shoulder just so he can narrow his eyes at Lockon. "I still have three boxes of flowers to set up. We don't have long to set up the outdoor display before we have to open. Hurry." 

"Tieria," Lockon murmurs, and the single step that he takes forward sends shivers down Tieria's back, makes his palms sweat. 

It's a feeling he used to mistake for pure irritation. He knows better now, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he knows what to do with it.

"We have a busy day ahead of us," Tieria says firmly, adjusting his glasses and frowning at Lockon through them. "Did you get all the flowers we need for today's custom orders?" 

"They're all waiting to be brought out of the van," Lockon replies, nodding towards the street outside. "Ready for you to work your magic on them."

"It's not magic," Tieria mutters, but this is an old argument that neither of them are making any ground on. There's a technique when it comes to arranging bouquets and it's one that Tieria knows well. There's no magic to it at all, but Tieria has learned to stop taking offence to Lockon's insistence that there is, has learned that it's not meant to downplay the skill it takes. 

He's learned a lot, working with Lockon from open to close. 

The day is busy, just as Tieria anticipates it to be. It's good; he likes the busy days, likes the fact that he and Lockon stay mostly out of each other's way, working on their own schedules. Lockon is better at dealing with the customers who walk in, quick at picking out what they're after. Tieria is good at orders that need a keen eye for detail. As difficult as it can be to work with Lockon sometimes, Tieria's learned to rely on him to get his part of the job done. It's too much for Tieria to do himself, but it's taken a while for him to learn to stop trying to anyway. It's taken longer to swallow the urge to criticise Lockon for the differences in the way they work, to accept that these things happen. 

He has one large order left by the time they close; several arrangements that are needed for an event tonight. Tieria stands at his bench, putting the bouquets together one stem at a time as he listens to Lockon closing up. Tieria has lowered the music playing over their sound system so it's barely more than a whisper, often drowned out by the sound of Lockon balancing the till and packing things away. Tieria doesn't watch him, his gaze fixed on the bouquet he's working on, but he knows when Lockon is done and walks across the shop floor. 

"You've finished everything you needed to do today," Tieria says, not looking up. "You don't need to stay back."

"I'll help you make the delivery," Lockon replies, and Tieria catches the casual shrug in his peripheral vision. "You've got a lot of bouquets there. It'll be easier with two people."

Tieria sighs quietly, then begins tying his bouquet together. "Trim the stems and wrap this, if you're going to stay. It needs to match the others."

Lockon grins, reaching out and taking the bouquet from Tieria. His fingers are warm as they brush against Tieria's skin, lingering like an invisible brand. Tieria tries not to be obvious about the way he jerks his hand away, starting on the next bouquet. Lockon talks as they work and Tieria bears it, not focusing on the words as much as the timbre of his voice, deep and smooth and easy on the ears. It makes the time go faster, and Tieria is done with the last bouquet before he even realises, handing it over to Lockon to trim. Tieria reaches for the next sheet of coloured paper to wrap with, far too conscious of the way Lockon watches him do it. 

"What?"

"Nothing." Lockon shakes his head, a smile curving its way across his lips. "It's fascinating, watching you work." 

The easy praise makes Tieria fumble with the plastic he wraps at the bottom of the bouquet. He frowns at his hands instead of at Lockon, and there's nothing to do with the bouquet but place it down on the table beside the others now that it's done. 

"Tieria," Lockon murmurs, and when he steps closer this time, Tieria has a bench behind him and nowhere else to go. 

He could remind Lockon about the delivery they need to make, but he's already ahead of schedule now that he's not working alone. Instead, he holds his tongue. Having Lockon in his space like this makes Tieria feel hyperaware of everything, from the gentle look in Lockon's eyes to the way his hands hover at their sides, like he's unsure whether or not to touch Tieria, or if it would be welcome. Tieria doesn't think he knows either. 

"You're not a machine, you know," Lockon tells him softly and he reaches forward, brushing Tieria's hair back, out of his face. "You're allowed to feel. That's not such a bad thing." 

Tieria's breath comes rushing out of him and he isn't sure whether it's the contact, or the fact that Lockon's words feel like permission he's unconsciously been waiting for. He tenses as he feels Lockon's arm around his waist, tenses further as he rests his hands on Lockon's shoulders. 

"Maybe not," he concedes, but he doesn't move any closer.

Lockon has no problem drawing him in the rest of the way. Tieria goes with it, until their lips are against each other, Lockon's body warm where it's pressed against his. 

When they pull apart, Lockon's hands move to cup Tieria's cheeks, pulling him back in again.

"We have a delivery to make," Tieria says against Lockon's lips, adjusting his skewed glasses. He licks his lips, watching the way Lockon's gaze tracks the movement of his tongue. He clears his throat. "After that, we can—maybe—" 

Lockon's grin is full of warmth, just like his touch, just like his voice as he says, "Yeah. Come on, let's get that out of the way." 

He leads the way out, arms full of bouquets to load into the van. Tieria follows a step behind, and lets himself smile at Lockon's back.


End file.
